


she colors up my dreams

by pellucid



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, it's really just sex, there is no other reason for this to exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pellucid/pseuds/pellucid
Summary: Pippa is really tired and really turned on. Hecate has this handled.





	she colors up my dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely the fault of metatxt and projectcyborg and a long conversation about Hecate and Pippa’s sex life once their relationship is well-established. And gabolange gets extra credit on this not only for the beta but also for putting up with said conversation (and many others) despite not going here. <3

Pippa holds the smile on her face until the accreditation officers’ brooms have disappeared into the clouds. As soon as she’s alone, she sags in exhaustion. 

Theoretically, they’re done with reaccreditation for the next seven years. In practice, this is their second “routine” reaccreditation in the past six, the result of certain factions in the education ministry looking for every opportunity to find fault with her too modern, too inclusive, too different school. Sometimes she feels like half her job is keeping up with the politics, trying to figure out if this is a year when the Great Wizard is most afraid of being seen as too modern or of being seen as not modern enough.

Pippa feels like they’ve all been walking on eggshells all week. They were more than prepared, had all of their records and evidence accounted for in five different ways, but Miss Doomstone, the head of the committee, has always been known for being harsh for the sake of it.

And of course the visit had to coincide with the end of the academic year. Students and teachers alike were at the end of their ropes, and Pippa hasn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep any night for weeks.

She sighs deeply. She’s tired in that bone-deep way that has her wanting sleep, yes, but also distance. She wants to get away, wants to get away with Hecate, the two of them shut up in a cottage and isolated from the world for a minimum of 72 hours. The cottage is rented, the vacation booked. She only has to last another two weeks. Two of the most hectic weeks of term, with final examinations and all the activities for graduates and everything else involved in ending an academic year.

She had ten minutes with Hecate over mirror last night, and she might get longer tonight if she can make it through the rest of her evening activities without too much delay. Sometimes she thinks these conversations hurt more than they help, though, in these times when they can’t actually see each other. Hecate was already in bed when they talked last night, soft and sleepy and even wearing the pajamas Pippa had bought her for Yule. Pippa wished she could crawl through the mirror and into Hecate’s arms, and she didn’t miss the way Hecate’s voice caught a little as they said goodnight.

Pippa checks in with her deputy, who has been managing the students while Pippa has been occupied with the accreditors, and as she gets an update on the plumbing repairs in the east wing from the building manager. She is waylaid by a pair of students wanting feedback on their leavers’ ball speeches, and she stops in the infirmary to check on the small group of third-years who have all come down with batpox. 

Finally, having been told by more than one of her colleagues that she looks exhausted and should get some rest, Pippa drags herself toward her rooms. She considers transferring, but the energy required is more than she can muster. Her feet are heavy up the stairs and she suspects that she will fall asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. But she will still have some time to catch Hecate before bed. She opens the door and—

“There you are,” Hecate says, setting aside a book and easing herself out of Pippa’s armchair. “I was considering initiating a search.”

“Oh,” gasps Pippa. “Hecate,” she says, her voice shaking. “What are you—”

And then Hecate is across the room, smiling gently as she reaches for Pippa. “I thought I might surprise you,” Hecate says, and Pippa falls into Hecate’s embrace.

Hecate holds her tightly, fingers pressing into Pippa’s ribs, and Pippa’s own hands scrabble for purchase in the back of Hecate’s dress. Pippa turns her face into Hecate’s neck, breathing in Hecate’s faint perfume and feeling Hecate’s mouth quirk against her forehead. Pippa feels lightheaded, and she clings to Hecate. 

“Oh, darling, are you really here?” Pippa asks, raising her head again to look at Hecate. 

“No, I’m just a figment of your imagination,” Hecate says fondly, rolling her eyes. Hecate looks a little tired, but her eyes are bright, and she’s here, solid and beautiful.

Pippa has been so good in recent weeks at tempering her expectations. She’s been terribly busy, and so has Hecate. Their responsibilities come first, and Pippa could name the thousand reasons they’re happy with the way they’ve arranged their lives. But the time apart, seeing each other only at weekends and not always even then, the two-hour flight between their schools—it aches, and somehow aches even more with Hecate finally in her arms, as though she’s coming up for air after being underwater, and her lungs are burning even as they cry out in relief. 

Pippa kisses her, hard and desperate, one hand reaching up to clutch at the back of Hecate’s neck. She feels Hecate smile, just for a moment, before her mouth opens and her tongue sweeps against Pippa’s. Hecate quickly takes command of the kiss, nipping Pippa’s bottom lip and sucking at Pippa’s tongue. Her hands are everywhere, one tugging Pippa’s hair free from its pins, the other skimming up her side and then down her back to her ass. 

Pippa struggles to process what is happening. The blood is rushing in her ears, and there is only Hecate, _here_ , and Hecate’s hands and mouth and body, and Pippa can’t do anything but hold on and kiss her and kiss her. 

Something collides with the back of Pippa’s legs, and she finds herself backed up against her desk, Hecate’s leg nudging between hers. Hecate breaks off the kiss, holding Pippa’s face in her hands. Her expression is determined, but also careful, and Pippa smiles as Hecate watches her. Hecate draws her lower lip between her teeth, and Pippa knows Hecate is assessing, weighing Pippa’s accounts of the past few weeks against the weariness on her face. 

“Goddess, I’ve missed you,” Pippa breathes, turning her head to place a kiss on Hecate’s palm while she grips Hecate’s hips to pull her closer. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” Hecate says, threading her fingers through Pippa’s hair. “And the mirror wasn’t good enough. It’s been too long, and I needed to see you.” She pauses and then smiles that private smile that only Pippa gets to see. “I just needed you.”

“Yes,” Pippa says, only to have her enthusiasm overcome with an enormous yawn. Hecate raises an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Pippa says, resting her forehead against Hecate’s collarbone. “It’s been a really long week.”

“Should I put you to bed, then?” Hecate asks. 

There’s no innuendo in her voice, nothing but sincere concern, and Pippa knows that Hecate has flown all this way yet would let Pippa fall asleep within twenty minutes of her walking in the door if Pippa wanted to. Hecate’s lips purse slightly, and there’s a small crease between her eyebrows that Pippa reaches up to smooth. 

Pippa is exhausted, admittedly, but even more so she is increasingly aroused and desperate. “You’re really here,” she repeats, trailing her fingertips down Hecate’s cheek and brushing her thumb across Hecate’s lips. Hecate catches her thumb between her teeth, and Pippa shivers and grins. “How about you take me to bed.” 

Hecate sucks at Pippa’s thumb, and Pippa watches as her pupils dilate. Pippa drags a hand up Hecate’s ribs to her breast, thrumming her thumb across Hecate’s nipple through layers of thick fabric. Hecate inhales sharply and then transfers them, suddenly, into Pippa’s bedroom.

They’ve hardly reappeared before Hecate is kissing her purposefully and easing her back onto the bed, one hand rucking up Pippa’s skirts to slide across her thigh. 

“I want you out of these clothes,” Hecate says, and Pippa grins, then gasps as she finds her shoes and stockings, and then her dress, magicked away. 

Hecate loves her in her underwear, and Pippa loves that this turns Hecate on. Pippa has a drawer full of bras and knickers she’s bought just for Hecate—lacy numbers in pink and red and black, with daring cuts that make Hecate’s pupils go dark and her hands clutch. But Pippa wasn’t expecting her today, and is wearing entirely practical knickers and her most comfortable bra, a concession to the long day at the end of an even longer week. 

“Sorry about the—” she begins, but Hecate silences her with a kiss, a finger tracing the lines of Pippa’s oh so practical cotton underthings. 

“It’s perfect,” Hecate murmurs, her mouth moving to the pulse point in Pippa’s neck. Her hand slides up the inside of Pippa’s thigh and then grazes her knuckles lightly over Pippa’s clit through the barrier of her knickers. Pippa shifts her hips to find more friction against Hecate’s hands, but Hecate away, the faintest hint of a teasing smile on her lips.

Hecate reaches back to unhook Pippa’s bra, fingers trailing across Pippa’s sides, back, and arms, leaving every nerve tingling in their wake. 

In the early days of their relationship, Hecate would look at her in this moment with undisguised awe—as if after so much time and pain and want she couldn’t believe Pippa was truly naked before her. Pippa imagines her own expression was much the same. That sensation has shifted over time, become laced with a familiar intimacy that Pippa wouldn’t change for anything, and Hecate’s expression now, as her fingers fan over Pippa’s breasts, is mostly gentle and aroused. But the awe remains, around the edges, and suddenly Pippa can’t wait to get her own hands and eyes on Hecate. 

“You’re overdressed,” she says, tugging at the high collar of Hecate’s dress. “May I?” She raises a hand to vanish Hecate’s clothes.

Hecate catches her hand, kisses the back of her fingers. “Save your energy,” Hecate says, and vanishes her own clothes all at once.

Pippa can never get enough of Hecate naked, and she struggles for a moment to decide whether to look or touch or pull Hecate down against her so she can feel Hecate’s skin against hers. 

Hecate chooses the latter, kissing her deeply and sliding against her, damp curls rubbing Pippa’s thigh, their breasts pressing together. For a moment Pippa is almost paralyzed with the sensation of Hecate’s body resting heavily, solidly against hers. Then Pippa’s brain catches up, and she moves her leg between Hecate’s and traces the long line of her spine. 

Hecate shudders, and Pippa takes advantage of the moment to flip Hecate over onto her back, then pauses to take her in. Hecate is thin and angular, of course, and Pippa draws her hand along a sharp hip bone and across visible ribs. But her breasts are magnificent, full and round, dark nipples pebbled against pale skin. Pippa had been stunned, the first time they slept together, by Hecate’s breasts, and in the two years since, she’s never gotten over the way the sight of them makes her mouth go dry with want. 

She cups her hand around the slope of one breast, her thumb teasing the nipple, first gently, then more firmly. “You’re so beautiful,” she says. She watches Hecate’s instinct to disagree pass across her face, and Pippa kisses her nose, her mouth, her neck. ”You are,” she repeats, and Hecate reaches up to palm Pippa’s breast in turn. 

Pippa buries her face between Hecate’s breasts, planting open-mouthed kisses up her sternum before drawing a nipple into her mouth. She sucks sharply, and grazes her teeth against skin as Hecate moans and arches against Pippa’s mouth. Pippa’s hand finds the hollow of Hecate’s hip and then slips between her legs, fingers sliding against the wetness there. 

“Mmm,” groans Hecate, shifting against her, but then moving Pippa’s hand away. “Not yet.” Hecate sits up, and then pushes Pippa back down into the mattress. “I came all this way to fuck you,” she says, her voice like silk.

Pippa’s breath catches and a sharp wave of arousal tugs at her belly. Hecate looks at her, not even touching, yet Pippa shifts her hips and rubs her thighs together, seeking out friction. Hecate’s smile is both intense and self-satisfied.

This side of Hecate had been a surprise, though in retrospect Pippa realized it shouldn’t have been. What in their girlhood had been imperiousness has matured in Hecate to a commanding presence: the disciplined and dramatic Miss Hardbroom, who brings students in line and doesn’t suffer fools. In the early days of their relationship, as they fumbled around nerves and fear and history, Pippa would not have expected _Miss Hardbroom_ to make an appearance in the bedroom. But as they found their rhythm and learned each other’s preferences, Hecate’s confidence blossomed. 

Hecate appraises her, one eyebrow quirked up, as Pippa swallows hard and clenches her inner muscles. “Would you like that?” Hecate asks, knowing and dangerous.

“Yes,” Pippa replies, not even attempting to disguise her desperation. “Hecate, please.” She has gone from pleasantly to almost painfully aroused in minutes. Hecate’s eyes rake down Pippa’s body, and Pippa rubs her thighs together and reaches for her own breast. 

“Hmm,” Hecate says, catching Pippa’s hand to prevent her touching herself, but tangling their fingers together. “You look like it won’t take much to make you come,” Hecate murmurs, and Pippa’s hips jerk.

“Goddess, Hecate, touch me,” she pleads.

Hecate does then, her free hand sliding up between Pippa’s thighs, separating them. Pippa is still in her knickers, which are already soaked. Hecate traces the lines of them, stroking her through the wet fabric, before a flick of the wrist vanishes them.

Hecate brings their joined hands to Pippa’s breast, kneading it together, and Pippa groans. Between her legs, Hecate’s fingers tease, sliding along the side of her clit, tracing the outline of her cunt. “Oh,” Pippa gasps and presses into Hecate’s hand.

Hecate’s mouth is at her jaw, then her neck, whispering “Pippa” against her collarbone before licking a line down her sternum. Pippa disentangles her hand and reaches for Hecate’s head, mussing her pinned up hair before spilling it down to drape across them both. 

Hecate’s fingers finally find her clit at the same moment that Hecate tosses her hair to one side. “Oh,” Pippa cries at the sight of her and the sensation, tangling one hand in Hecate’s hair while the other twists in the sheet. Hecate finds a rhythm against Pippa’s clit and her mouth latches onto Pippa’s breast.

Hecate was right. Pippa’s arousal builds hot and fast, and there’s no drawing it out. “Hecate, I—” she starts to say, and then she goes taut as she comes, sharp and bright and breathless.

“There,” Hecate says, as Pippa’s hips buck against her hand. “Good girl.”

Pippa comes back to herself with the awareness of Hecate’s skin on hers, and she tugs Hecate more fully against her, pulling her up into a kiss. Pippa splays her hands against Hecate’s back and ribs and hip, trying to touch as much of her as possible. Hecate shifts up onto an elbow and looks down at Pippa with a gentle expression.

Hecate’s hand is still between Pippa’s legs, her fingers lazily stroking. “That felt like just a starter. Care to go again?”

Pippa wants—. She wants to wrap herself around Hecate and sleep. She wants Hecate, wants to touch her and watch her come undone. And she wants more. Hecate flicks her finger directly across Pippa’s still sensitive clit, and Pippa moans involuntarily. The orgasm only took the edge off, and she feels nervy and needy all over again. 

“Yes?” Hecate asks, nipping at Pippa’s collarbone.

“Yes,” she answers, giving in to it. “Goddess, Hiccup, yes.”

“Good,” Hecate says, smiling against her skin. “Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Nngh” is all Pippa can manage as Hecate moves down her body, licking and sucking at her breasts, her navel, her hip. Pippa’s breath catches as Hecate’s hand presses just—there—against her pubic bone while kissing the hollow of her hip, the inside of her thighs. 

“Hecate,” she gasps as Hecate’s tongue finally finds her clit. Pippa shifts her hips to meet Hecate’s mouth and hooks her legs over Hecate’s shoulders. 

Hecate brings intensity to everything she does, and Pippa vividly remembers the moment—years ago, while they were revising for their sixth year exams—when it first occurred to her to imagine what it might be like to have all of the focus and dedication Hecate could give to a potion devoted to her instead. 

Hecate’s mouth brings her to the brink and then backs her down again twice, while two fingers curl inside her, finding the spot that makes Pippa gasp and twist her hips. It’s too much and not enough, building deep inside her, and she thinks she might come out of her own skin. She feels raw, every emotion that she’s kept regulated in recent weeks breaking free. She’s anxious for her school and angry at the education ministry and so unbelievably proud of her students and her staff. She’s deeply exhausted, and the thought of two more weeks of term is agonizing. She’s desperate for Hecate, the need clawing at her, and even Hecate here with her and inside her isn’t enough.

Pippa needs _more_ , and she clutches at her own breast, pinching the nipple hard. She’s crying, and crying out Hecate’s name, arching off the bed. Hecate sucks at her clit, and Pippa shatters, writhing, weeping, keening as she comes apart. 

She tangles her hand in Hecate’s hair as Hecate brings her down slowly, mouth gentle against sensitive flesh.

“Hecate,” Pippa breathes, over and over, the only coherent thought she can manage. Her body is heavy and boneless as Hecate moves up beside her.

“It’s all right,” Hecate soothes, her thumb brushing the tears from Pippa’s cheeks. “It’s all right, I’ve got you.” Hecate kisses her, and Pippa tastes the sharp tang of herself on Hecate’s tongue. 

Pippa curls into Hecate and breathes slow, shaky, cathartic breaths until she’s herself again, smiling and sated. 

“Beautiful,” Hecate says. “Beautiful and brilliant and mine.”

Hecate is tracing slow lines across Pippa’s stomach and breasts, and Pippa relaxes into her touch, eyes slipping closed. Then she shakes herself back awake, catching Hecate’s hand.

“Your turn,” Pippa says, trying to rouse her body to follow through on her desires.

Hecate laughs. “In the morning. You should sleep now.” 

Pippa takes her in: Hecate with her hair down and messy, eyes dark, face flushed, lips swollen, nipples pebbled. Hecate shudders as Pippa slides a hand down her side, and when Pippa dips her fingers between Hecate’s legs, she finds her soaking wet.

“No, now,” Pippa replies, determined not to leave Hecate in this condition. Then she yawns despite herself. “You might have to help me out a bit, though,” she admits.

“Pippa, it’s unnecessary,” Hecate protests, but Pippa pulls herself up to sit. Hecate follows, and Pippa shifts and tugs until Hecate is straddling one of Pippa’s thighs. Pippa watches Hecate try to resist the urge to press against Pippa’s leg.

“Darling,” Pippa says, “I have enjoyed myself tremendously. And now I would very much like to watch you.” She moves her hand to the place where Hecate’s wetness is pooling against her thigh, shifts her leg a little to give Hecate some friction, and runs her fingers across Hecate’s curls. 

Hecate exhales audibly and sways toward Pippa as her eyes slide closed. 

Pippa increases the friction and reaches for Hecate’s breast with her other hand. “Is this what you want?” Pippa asks again.

It takes another beat of struggling to be noble before Hecate gives in. “Fine, yes” Hecate says, relaxing into Pippa and rubbing herself rather shamelessly against Pippa’s thigh.

“Marvelous,” Pippa says, smiling as she pulls Hecate in for a kiss. 

Pippa starts to move Hecate back down on the bed, but Hecate stops her. “Stay like this,” Hecate whispers between kisses. “I can do more of the work.” 

Pippa smiles as Hecate starts to find a rhythm against Pippa’s leg. She moves her fingers against Hecate’s clit, but she can tell it’s not enough, not yet. She slides her hand more fully between their bodies. “Shift up a little, darling,” she says, and Hecate accommodates as Pippa slips two, and then all four fingers into her cunt. 

“Mmm,” Hecate murmurs, letting herself stretch, then settle, and then beginning to move slowly.

“Okay?” Pippa asks, though she knows how much Hecate likes this. 

“Ah,” Hecate exhales. “Perfect.”

In this position Pippa has a face full of Hecate’s breasts, and she takes advantage and pulls one nipple into her mouth, smiling against Hecate’s skin as she moans a little. Pippa sucks at Hecate’s breast; there will be a mark tomorrow, she thinks with satisfaction. Hecate is moving faster now, fucking herself on Pippa’s fingers while Pippa’s thumb rubs her clit. 

Hecate’s rhythm falters a little, and her breathing stutters. “Come for me, darling,” Pippa says, curling her fingers just so, and Hecate does, muscles spasming around Pippa’s hand as she leans against Pippa, gasping and shaking. 

They collapse together against the bed. Hecate looks soft and well-fucked and gorgeous, and as always, Pippa can’t quite believe this is real. Pippa licks off her fingers while Hecate watches, fresh want flashing across her face. 

She nestles against Hecate, hooking a leg around her and smothering an enormous yawn into Hecate’s shoulder. Hecate conjures a warm washcloth to clean them both up, and with another wave of her hand, they’re both tucked up under the duvet.

“Thank you for coming,” Pippa says, and then giggles at her double entendre. “I mean, traveling to Pentangles,” she clarifies. “To surprise me.”

“My pleasure,” says Hecate, and though Pippa’s head is tucked into Hecate’s neck, she can almost feel Hecate’s eye roll. “In both senses.”

Pippa is a breath or two from sleep, and she focuses on the scent of sex and of Hecate’s perfume, on the feel of Hecate’s bare skin against her own. “Love you,” she whispers.

Hecate turns her head to press a kiss into Pippa’s hair. “I love you,” Hecate answers. “Now rest.”


End file.
